


Swinging on a Star

by red__letters



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bros Banging Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Dirty Mouth, Bucky and Peggy Domming Steve Rogers, Bucky and Peggy Working Together to make Steve Rogers Cry, Bucky and Peggy are Essentially Bros, Captain America: The First Avenger, Cunnilingus, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Domme Peggy Carter, Established Relationship, F/M, Gentle femdom, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Multi, Past Peggy Carter/OFC, Pet Names, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Praise Kink, Restraints, Sub Steve Rogers, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4708430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red__letters/pseuds/red__letters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you love someone as deep and true as Bucky Barnes loves Steve Rogers, you want nothing more than for them to be happy and have everything that they want and need. And Peggy Carter is one hell of a woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So You See It's Up To You

**Author's Note:**

> In which Bucky and Steve have a well-established romantic relationship, with some D/s elements. Up to this point, Bucky has been Steve's only sexual partner, and Bucky wants nothing more than for Steve to be happy, so when he sees Steve interacting with Agent Carter, he sets out to make it happen for his fella. If there is something I should be warning or tagging for, please let me know. Un-beta'd.

“You’re real sweet on her, aren’t you?”

Steve is facedown on the bed he and Bucky’s are sharing; the first one they’ve encountered in weeks, maybe months. Bucky’s got him hobbled, legs tucked under him and wrists strapped to his own ankles in what has to be the most against-regulation way to use a military issue leather belt Steve could ever imagine. His brain is fuzzy and slow from the way Bucky has meticulously set about taking him apart; he’s been blushing so long and so hard that his skin feels like it’s going to peel off; he’s sweating, or crying, or both, and he can feel the hotter points of the bruises from Bucky’s mouth and fingers like tiny beacons all over his body. He’s got no earthly idea how long he’s even been in this position; when Bucky sets his mind to it he can be a real patient guy, and that coupled with the heady knowledge that now neither of them have to worry about asthma, or heart trouble, or any of the million ways that Steve’s body would betray him before this, before the serum, when Steve was small but just as fierce, has made time go liquid around them.

Steve is blinking, muzzily, trying to crane his head over his left shoulder, which Bucky derails with a very pointed twist and insistent pressing of the three fingers currently inside him. He whines high in his throat, and jerks, the belts digging in, sending little shivery jolts up his legs and arms.

Jesus Christ above, how long has he been fucking him like that? Steve isn’t entirely sure. Bucky has one hand firmly pressed down on Steve’s lower back, and is driving him inexorably and devastatingly closer to the edge of what will be his third orgasm. His dick is so hard and tender that it hurts, but in a way that is completely abstract; he’s pretty sure he could get shot right now and he couldn’t be bothered to do much more than be vaguely aware of it.

Bucky has, in the past, referred to this as his “sweet” stage. (“Aw sweetheart, darlin’, you’re so sweet like this; I’m the only one that gets to see this, huh? Everyone else just sees you spittin’ mad like a wet cat, worked up and pissed and so damn gorgeous anyways, but I’m the only one that gets this, aren’t I?” He also refers to the first stage of when they do this as the “asshole stage”, where Steve is belligerent and argumentative and Bucky allows him to goad him until he lays Steve out, literally, with his hands and his mouth, and brings him out of his head until Steve can’t talk shit anymore – it is _always_ an uphill battle; one that Bucky would fight every damn day if given a chance; Steve always fights this about himself so _hard_ and is so perfect when he finally just lets Bucky give him what he needs.)

“I said,” and Bucky is leaning down, setting his teeth into the swell of Steve’s ass, briefly, then pulling back, fingers moving calmly and confidently, his voice amused, affectionate. Steve is trying very very hard to pay attention to what he’s saying; “you’re sweet on her. Carter. I saw you lookin’ at her with that same wide-eyed, gob-smacked look you used to give me.” And God, Bucky can’t possibly want to talk about this right now, when Steve is _so fucking close_ and Bucky hasn’t even gotten off once. His pace is picking up though, so Steve knows this is part of the game: Bucky loves it when Steve talks to him, especially like this, with Steve already fucked-out and desperate and willing to say just about anything to get Bucky to _not stop_. He realizes with a blessed moment of clarity that Bucky _wants_ him to talk about Peggy right now, _Holy Mother of God_. Steve’s breathing is picking up and he’s pushing back against Bucky, and he can feel his pulse pounding; concentrated on his ankles and wrists, his dick, and his face – heating up again at the thought of telling Bucky about Peggy, the only other person he’s ever wanted like this. He thinks he might honestly die, or at the very least burst a damn blood vessel.

“Yeah Buck, I – _hnngg oh Jesus **fuck** me _ – I think she’s swell, don’t like her as much as I like you though,” Steve is panting, his hands balled into fists, whole body straining toward and against everything Bucky is giving to him. His dick is drooling precome, and Bucky is laughing softly, but not unkindly, to himself. His hand is slowing down and Steve’s eyes are stinging; he can feel the words _please please make me come_ rising in him, catching in his throat.

“Aw Stevie, you ain’t gotta lie to me, I can tell you like the idea of her least as much as you like me,” Bucky Barnes’ dirty mouth is legendary; he has, in the past, been known to bring Steve off purely with his words alone, and Steve can hear him gearing up for the mother of all speeches. He tries to anticipate it, he really does, but he can’t help blocking out every other thing besides Bucky’s voice, slow and hot, filled with love and wanting him and a life of being in each others’ pockets, and the drag and push of his perfect fucking fingers. “You want her, darlin’? Pretty damn clear she’s interested in you; and who wouldn’t be? You’re so fucking gorgeous, you always were, those big blue eyes of yours nearly made me fuckin’ crazy, since we were kids, before I even knew what my dick was _for,_ but now people can see what was inside you all along; big fuckin’ heart, only now you match; perfect fuckin’ dick, your little ass, better tits than I ever seen on a dame, my hand to God, you are just a goddamn picture. You drive me out of my head, but you can have her, sweetheart, if that’s what you want. I want you happy, and you should be with a dame, least once, there’s more than enough of you, ‘sides, she looks like she’d take care of you the way you need,” and Steve is, honest to God and all the blessed saints; whining, a high, tight _hnn hnn hnn_ up in his throat, and crying, beyond words, shivering like his body is going to shake apart at the seams, because Bucky is pressing hard and insistent on that spot inside him that makes him crazy, makes him feel like he’s on fire, lights him up like a damn Christmas tree, and he can’t bear to think that Bucky would give him this. Steve can hear Bucky’s hand on his own dick, distantly, and when he speaks again he’s a little breathless, a little desperate.

“You gonna let me watch you, sweetheart? I gotta make sure she loves you the right way, and I gotta make sure you do as you’re told, don’t I? Gotta make sure you don’t mess her up with those big fuckin’ paws of yours all over her smart uniform or what she has underneath, or your perfect fuckin’ dick – you think she’ll let you come inside her, Stevie? You think she’ll let you put that big cock inside her if you bring her off nice and sweet, like you do with me, get your mouth on her like you’re starvin’?” Bucky’s hand is moving fast, he can hear the slick noise of him fucking his left fist, his right still busy between Steve’s legs.

And Steve is thinking about Peggy in her red dress just hours ago; dolled up like he’s never seen her before, just a dime, perfect and untouchable, knowing she could tell what it did to him, how it made him feel awkward and start blushing, especially with Bucky playing his part and sweet talking her; how effortlessly she shut him down.

Peggy cool and collected, shooting at him with her eyes steely, and her perfect red mouth pursed after she caught Lorraine kissing him, how hard it made him after the fact once he was alone, and most of all; Peggy in her uniform, authoritative and commanding with the enlisted men, reducing them to shreds with a couple words, and with one perfect eyebrow arched at him _before,_ when he was still small and weak and so angry, so far out of his league in every sense of the word, and the tiny smile on her face that meant she was pleased by something he’d done, and how _good_ it felt to please her in that small way, down to his _bones._

He thinks about what Bucky is suggesting; getting his mouth on her; what she’d taste like, how she’d sound, would he be able to please her in that way too, thinks about her calling him _sweet_ and _good boy_ , her nails scratching his scalp, and he’s overcome, between the way that Bucky is working him over and the idea of Peggy; can’t possibly help going off like a fucking rocket, lit from the inside out. His dick flushed purple, jerking against his doubled-over abs, completely untouched. He chokes down what might be a scream, he isn’t sure. His mind whites out, utterly and completely. He’s floating and gasping, dimly aware of Bucky coming, can hear him still talking, a little, while he comes down; calling Steve _baby boy_ and _perfect_ and _beautiful._

Some time later, while Bucky kisses him reverently on his thighs, his calves, his shoulders, undoing the belts from around his wrists and ankles, Steve comes back to himself. He sighs, face still planted firmly into the blankets, and groans brokenly when Bucky starts rubbing his hands and feet to soothe the tingling ache of being bound for so long. He licks his lips and speaks, croaky and soft.

“Buck, did you mean that? About Peggy? Agent Carter?” Bucky is rubbing the long line of his back, easing him onto his side, petting him down like a horse after a race. There’s a thoughtful silence from him before he speaks, and when he does his voice is full and warm with affection.

"You're my fella, Steve. Have been since you dared me to kiss you behind the chapel in 1933, you little shit. You never once got sore at me stepping out to have dame every once in a while, and I never made much of fuss about you _not_ doin' it, because I figured if I was enough for you, then I sure as hell wasn't gonna question it. But Agent Carter is a real damn firecracker, pardon my language, I know you don't like me talking about ladies like that - _ow_ Jesus don't pinch. But women are somethin'. Aw now, you know I think you're prettier'n any dame. Anyway, _like I was saying_ , she seems like she'd be tender, but not afraid of bossing you like I know you like - Oh don't you look at me like that; you think I didn't notice how bothered you got when you when you told me how she shot at you? Christ above, " And he's grinning down at him, has Steve pillowed up against his side, holding him close and rubbing his head; ("Jesus Buck you can't just pet me like that, m'not a damn cat," "Lord's name, now shut up and let me be sweet for Christ's sake,"), and Steve needs to kiss him, urgently, right now. 

He struggles to sit up, and kisses the holy hell out of this this man that would let him share his body if he wanted, would be a safety net and a protector; who knows him so well, knows what he needs before he'll admit it to himself and relishes being the one to give it to him. Bucky huffs out small laugh against his mouth, eyes going sleepy and dark, sucking on his own bottom lip like he doesn't know that makes Steve want to bite it. 

“Damn sweetheart, if you keep kissin’ me like that, you’re never going to get your chance with the lovely Miss Carter, gonna be too busy getting loved on by me,” And Steve heats up at the endearment, his eyes and cheeks and the pit of his stomach getting hot; far enough now out of the moment that it’s embarrassing, a little, how much he likes Bucky calling him sweet names.

“Please shut up, Jesus H., you are gonna be the death of me, James Buchanan Barnes, always running your damn mouth,” he groans from against Bucky’s shoulder. Now Bucky honest to God _laughs_ at him, and ruffles his hair.

“Rogers, if I ain’t the death of you, then sure as shit that woman will be,” Steve realizes that Bucky is probably right. He settles into the comfort of the warmth radiating from his fella, and is asleep in no time at all.


	2. You Could Be Better Than You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peggy and Bucky find that they have some things in common, and plans are set in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being quite a bit more about character development than sex. Sorry, not sorry. I'll say it before and I'll say it again; Peggy is a god-damn gift and these boys are some lucky bastards.

It’s about a week before Bucky has a chance to talk to Agent Carter alone, and by that time he’s reasonably sure that Steve is willfully choosing to not bring it up; if he happens to blush just a little harder when he’s in a room with both her and Bucky, and gets a little more desperate a little more quickly when Bucky has him alone after, Bucky certainly isn’t going to spoil the anticipation by bringing it up. 

He thought that Steve might want to talk to her himself, but he’s made it pretty clear that the decision is Bucky’s, and Bucky is not above admitting that being trusted like that; to give his fella what he wants, but no sooner than Bucky is allowing it, is thrilling. Thinking about that unerring trust makes his chest feel expansive, and the feeling lingers as he walks into the office that Agent Carter and the rest of her detail are currently occupying. 

She’s sitting at a lone desk, everyone else already cleared out for the day, head bent over a stack of paperwork, but she hears him approaching and looks up. If she’s surprised to see him, it’s only given away in the slight raise of one eyebrow. He can feel the edges of his smile getting sharper, warmth spreading through his belly and hips. He can see the attraction, absolutely: his sweetheart has a type, and make no mistake; the politely detached way she observes him, like he hasn’t yet earned the privilege of a smile; the perfect red lipstick and the set of her shoulders. He would be lamenting how well and truly _fucked_ Steve is going to be, in every possible way, if he wasn’t quite so damn excited about it himself.

“Can I help you, Sergeant Barnes?” She has her hands lightly clasped on top of the desk, perfectly still. Bucky flashes her the same smile as that night in the pub when she wore that red dress, and pulls up one of the chairs from a different desk and places it across from her. It feels oddly like an interview. Or an interrogation. Which, Bucky guesses, is not entirely separate from what it actually is.

“Agent Carter, ma’am, I think you can,” He settles himself into his chair and watches her eyebrow rise incrementally higher, her demeanor unchanged otherwise. “It’s in regards to Steve. I have a favor - well, _we_ have a favor to ask you.” He pauses, searching her face. He doesn’t figure her for the kind of dame to have an issue with queers, in fact maybe the opposite, if he’s trusting his gut, but people are surprising, and he needs to be ready to backtrack if necessary.

“You and…Captain Rogers?” She is still perfectly calm, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t notice a slight uptick at the corners of her mouth before she continues; “What can I possibly do to help you gentleman? Some officially inadvisable but daring plan of rescue? Because I have to say, I rather think your Howling Commandos have cornered the market on that particular type of foolishness, Sergeant. Or is this about something more personal?”

He’s fairly certain she’s got his number, but sends up a quick prayer anyway that this isn’t going to blow up in his face. He sure as shit doesn’t need Steve more on edge than he already is, throwing his fool ass into danger as a distraction; and if this goes bad it’ll be the Holy Mother of reckonings. He clears his throat and rubs a hand across his jaw; a tic he’s had since he first started shaving, one that Steve always teases him about. A shiver of doubt makes its way down his spine; this will be the first time he’s acknowledged out loud to anyone other than Steve himself what they are; who they are to each other. God help him, he loves Steve down to the ground, and he knows it would kill him to be seen as something less than he is, to be seen as a deviant or wrong in some way, or to be forced into no longer being allowed to serve his country, or worse. He takes a breath and levels his eyes on Agent Carter.

“Steve and I, it’s been just us since we were kids. I think I fell in love with him the second I saw him cornered in the schoolyard by three older boys, bloody and fists up, lookin’ like he invented wrath. And that ain’t ever changed. He’s my fella. I’ve had dames, but Steve hasn’t, at all; he’s somethin’ else. I’ve always looked out for him; I’m the only person he ever trusted to take care of him and not see him as weak, or like less of a man based on something dumb like how big he was. Until you, ma’am,” Bucky pauses to watch her face, sees her eyes and smile softening, just a little. Her hands are moving now; her right thumb rubbing her left slightly, bright red nails looking wet in the light from the desk lamp.

“I confess I had wondered if there was more between you than friendship. I don’t believe anyone else would dare to make such assumptions, but when he spoke of you, before Austria, I was reminded very much of a dear friend of my own. She seemed to be always giving to others, never taking any for herself or allowing herself relief; always carrying the burden of her heart. Passionate to a fault, overwhelmingly so sometimes,” Peggy gives him the wry look of a person recognizing its own kind in another, and shifts slightly in her chair, her focus now intently on Bucky’s face. He appreciates that she’s rewarded his confession with one of her own, putting them on an even keel, and notices her face changing. Her eyes are assessing him now, cool and appraising, and _Jesus Christ_ , he’s liable to get sweet on her himself if she levels him with that look too much; he wonders if that’s how Steve feels whenever Bucky looks at _him_ like that; he hopes it is. Her thumb is tapping now, insistent, her voice all business as she continues.

“I’ve found, Sergeant, that when one has a friend in need, especially one like Captain Rogers, or like my friend, a certain amount of force is sometimes necessary to achieve the intended result of lightening the burden. Provided that all parties are, of course, amenable,” And Bucky almost laughs; Peggy Carter is one hell of a woman.

“Agent Carter, I think you and I understand each other just fine. Steve is… _difficult_ , sometimes, I mean really he can be a grade A asshole, you don’t mind me saying so; belligerent as all hell and mouthy besides. He takes some convincing to be sweet, to clear his head, but when he does…” Bucky trails off, thinking about his boy; pinked up and blushing down his chest, eyes wide and glassy, mouth wet, whining just a little bit. Carter smiles at him, a real one this time.

“Yes, I had noticed his…argumentative nature; quite impossible not to, I would think. Sergeant, I do want to make several things perfectly clear. If this arrangement is going to work, there will be ground rules. The foremost of which is that you and I will not be involved.” She pauses here, no doubt checking Bucky’s reaction. He keeps his face neutral; that isn’t why he’s here. She clears her throat and gives him an approving look before going on; 

“I find Steve to be exceptional; not just now, with what the serum has enabled him to become physically, but before, as well. He is also exceptional in that I, myself, do not generally enjoy the company of men. But he is, as you say, something else. I admit to feeling a great deal of affection and nothing but the highest regard for him, and I’m...very pleased to have been asked to give him this, but that is where it ends. It’s clear that his heart is yours, in any case,” And Bucky feels like he could choke with pride, and respect. Even if she had told him she was in love with Steve, and it made him prickle with jealousy, even then, he would want to give Steve this. Bucky nods slowly and licks his lips.

“Ma’am, he won’t want anything more from you than what you’re willing to give him. If he’s earned it, he’ll know it. I gotta do my part though; Steve knows I’m real protective, especially when he’s being sweet. He likes it when I’m sweet on him, too; not at first, mind, but later. He spent so much time dealin’ with folks calling him weak, assumin’ he couldn’t do anything since he was small, or sick sometimes, and being rough with him that he gets embarrassed, but he just about melts like butter if you let him know he’s doing a good job,” He thinks about Steve glaring at him when he calls him _doll_ , and how that turns to begging when he murmurs _sweetheart, darlin', you're doin' so good_ into his ear once he’s finally got him settled in; _damn_ he is a lucky bastard. Agent Carter is nodding at him in a way that suggests she is making a list; taking a mental inventory of some kind. 

“Yes, I’ve read his medical file. I’m going to assume that he requires firmness; discipline and reward, not pain for pain’s sake; it seems as though he’s had rather enough of that in his life. He seems to make a habit of getting beaten up, now unfortunately as a career. I can’t imagine that he’d want that in his personal time as well,” And oh, Bucky can tell that she is going to just obliterate his baby’s brain. Just completely blow the top off his head. He’s half hard; it’s not insistent in its own right, but he can imagine Agent Carter’s perfect, imperious eyebrow being returned by the dazed, lax look on Steve's face that means his sweetheart is just utterly gone, and it is a picture, _goddamn_. He’s leaning forward in the chair, conspiratorial.

By the time he leaves the office, the sun is going down, and he has a spring in his step. Steve is due back from tactical drills in a couple hours, and there are preparations to be made. 


	3. You Could Be Swinging On The Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy and Bucky working together is a beautiful thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with this whole piece but particularly this chapter; many many thanks to my Canadian wife, Ash. Ilu bb, thank you for fully supporting my abuse of the semicolon.

To say that Steve is a little on edge when he gets back to their room would be like saying that Steve is a little Irish, or a little stubborn, or has an only slightly over-developed sense of right and wrong. He’s just so damn _mad._ The men were making stupid mistakes today; reckless things that could have been easily avoided. He pushes open the door with a fist and kicks it shut with the bottom of his boot behind him, slightly harder than he knows is necessary. He rips the helmet off his head and throws it against the far wall, sitting down heavily in one of the chairs that Bucky had swiped from another room. The chair groans and creaks under him, and it makes him want to punch something. Instead he puts his head in his hands and grips fistfuls of his own hair; he’s so frustrated he feels like he’s about to fly out of his skin. Sometimes, he misses who he was. Misses being able to let his anger out, and have it not result in serious injury or destruction. Misses being able to just be little Steve Rogers; unassuming and inconsequential, unseen. He takes a deep breath and realizes for the first time since shutting the door that Bucky is in fact in the room as well. He’s watching; looking him over from the bed where he’s been reading, no doubt entirely aware of how badly he’s beating himself up. Bucky’s always been able to see right through to the heart of him, even at his worst.  


“That bad, huh?” Bucky asks evenly, setting his book down. He’s fully dressed, boots and all, except for his henley, which is off. Even in the state he’s in currently, seeing him relaxed and watchful sends a little shiver of _want_ down Steve’s spine. He stays on his side, facing Steve but not getting up. He’ll give him some time to come down a little bit from the cycle of being angry at himself, being ashamed for being angry when he should be thankful, and then angry all over again, before he approaches him; when his blood is up like this Steve doesn’t take well to any kind of affection or tenderness. Steve barks out a mirthless laugh and then grimaces at him, slanting his eyes up, briefly. Bucky is rubbing at his jaw, his left arm flexing, and it makes Steve pause for a minute, some of the tension easing out of his body, his joints going a little bit slack. He sighs, sagging back into the chair, rubbing a hand over his face and letting his hands drop between his spread legs.  


“You could say that, yeah. Fellas are unhappy. They don’t want to be cooped up here anymore, running drills, they want action. They’re restless, and it shows, it’s making them reckless. Anderson, you know him, kid from Iowa, just about broke his damn ankle today, and then less than an hour later, O’Farrell wasn’t paying attention and got hit in the side of his fucking head with a rifle butt; he probably has a concussion,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He wants to be a good soldier, he wants to do the right thing and make his men happy, but playing hurry up and wait in camp is driving him out of his damn mind, and he can’t do a single thing about it, which just works him up all over again. He feels completely powerless. He stands up and starts pacing around the room; picking stuff up and putting it down. He can feel Bucky’s eyes tracking him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his stomach tingle.  


fuck you.  


“The Hell it isn’t, _Sergeant_. Those are _my_ men. They’re counting on me to lead them, to know what the _Hell_ is going on, and I don’t. I can’t tell them a damn thing, and it makes me feel like a fool. I finally have a chance to be of some use, to someone, to serve a goddamn _purpose_ for once, and I’m stuck here – ” He cuts himself off with a hard breath in through his nose, a knock on their door effectively silencing him. He’s still so worked up that he stomps over to the door and yanks it open, ready to order whoever the Hell is there to kindly take a walk and leave him _alone._  


“Everything alright, Captain Rogers? Sergeant Barnes?” Peggy. Peggy is at their door. She doesn’t look bothered by the raised voices, or by the redness in his face; anger and embarrassment making him blush. He wants, in this moment, to be anywhere but here. She is looking at him evenly, directly in his eyes, no smile to speak of. She’s still dressed in her uniform, not a single hair out of place, looking just like she did ten hours ago at the start of the day, but she has a briefcase in her hand. Bucky is at his side, opening the door, smiling wide and ushering Peggy into the room. She inclines her head ever so slightly toward Bucky, and Steve can feel the indignation plain as day, all over his face.  


“We’re just fine, Agent Carter. Steve was just telling me about his day. He seems to think he holds the sole responsibility to train every single recruit that crosses his path, and inform each of his men on every little thing that the Allied Forces does or doesn’t do. Seems to think he’s as good as useless here, that instead he should be out punchin’ Hitler himself in the face, winning this war based on runnin’ straight into danger without a single thought for himself,” Steve is gaping, he knows he is. His face is scarlet and he can feel the flush marching steadily down his throat. He is suddenly extremely grateful for the uniform and its high neck. Meanwhile, Bucky is pulling out the chair for Peggy to sit, casual as he fuckin’ pleases, taking the briefcase from her and setting it down on the table within her arms reach. He sounds amused by Steve’s anger, which does nothing but inflame it further. Peggy has yet to spare him anything more than a cursory glance. Bucky is leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed at his chest. His eyes are very nearly glittering with mirth, and Steve is getting his hackles up. He’s opening his mouth to tell Bucky to just _shut the Hell up, Jesus, you always gotta be runnin’ your mouth,_ when Peggy’s clear voice stops him.  


“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve arrived when I have, then, isn’t it Sergeant? We wouldn’t want Captain Rogers working himself into too much of a lather over something as silly as all that, would we?” She says briskly, crossing her legs. She’s looking at Steve now, her entire focus suddenly on him. He resists the urge to shuffle his feet, the desire to let his body turn inward and hunch his shoulders growing as she looks at him like a governess; coolly appraising their charge throwing a tantrum. “Captain Rogers, would you agree with my assessment that you have, in fact, devoted the lion’s share of your time and energy today and indeed on many days previous to this one, to the men encamped around this building. That you would, if it came down to it, lay down your life for any one of them if the situation called for it?”  


He feels like a leaf in the wind, completely without direction. He feels mean and small, strangled when he mumbles an affirmative.  


“Speak up, Captain, I believe I asked you a question, and I expect to be answered promptly and audibly when I do so,” And _Oh my Jesus Christ_ he thinks, faintly, eyes going wide like saucers, his nostrils flaring with a gusty breath out. Clarity hits him in the face with all the subtlety of that rifle butt on O’Farrell’s head. _Bucky._ Bucky had talked to Peggy. About him. He startles visibly, going stock still and looking over at Bucky. Bucky, the shit, is still grinning at him, toothy, his hips pushed out from the wall. He looks like the fuckin’ Devil himself.  
“There you are, sweetheart,” And he’s not comfortable enough with what’s happening that he doesn’t roll his eyes theatrically at Bucky’s pet names, but Bucky, true to form, just steam rolls right over it, ignoring his insolence; “I was wonderin’ when you’d realize. Agent Carter and I, we decided that there’s really no time like the present. Got yourself a real sharp woman, Stevie; cool under pressure and a real stand-up gal, to boot,” Steve can’t bear to look Peggy – _Agent Carter_ , his brain supplies, in the eye; still caught between the off-kilter sensation of having the rug of his anger swept out from under him, and the overwhelming embarrassment of being caught out like this, naked even though he’s got all his clothes on. His skin feels tight and hot across his shoulders and thighs, and he resists the urge to shift his hips, the lust that so often accompanies his embarrassment pooling low in his belly and through his pelvis. He clears his throat to speak, face blazing.  


“Peggy – Agent Carter –”  


“Captain,” She cuts him off smoothly, and he can feel himself starting to sweat, just a little, at his hairline. “You will refer to me as ma’am. At no point will you refer to me as anything else, until I’ve given you leave to do so, is that understood?” He’s nodding before he can stop himself, eyes glued to hers. In his periphery he can see Bucky circling around, taking some things out of various drawers and his rucksack. Peggy smiles at him, kindly, and his heart thumps against his breastbone crazily. He’s trying very very hard to control his breathing.  


“Very good. You may speak only when spoken to, and I expect you to answer me in a reasonably prompt manner when I’ve asked you a question. Any other noises you might make are at your own discretion. Sergeant Barnes has informed me that you have a system in place for yourselves in these situations, in order to avoid any unnecessary discomfort, is that correct?” She’s raising an eyebrow at him; she expects an answer. He chews his bottom lip, and realizes that he’s hard. _Jesus God._  


“Yes, ma’am,” _Christ_ , is that his voice? He sounds hoarse, desperate. His blush, which had started dissipating, flares right back up again. He can feel his palms sweating. He shuffles his feet slightly and continues, “The word is ‘Ulysess, ma’am’”. Her smile is still in place, calm and warm. Looking at it for too long makes his eyes feel hot, so he looks down at his booted feet instead.

“Perfect. You’re doing very well, Captain,” Her voice is so soothing; an encouraging, warm tide he can feel with his whole body. He hears some soft clinking noises and looks up briefly, at Bucky. Who is setting a number of items on the table, next to briefcase that Peggy brought with her; Vaseline, which makes his dick throb suddenly, insistently, bringing him out of the warm satisfaction of Peggy’s compliment. He doesn’t dare touch himself, not with her watching him like she is, and quickly assesses the other things; both his and Bucky’s plain leather belts, which make him swallow thickly and go a little dizzy and fuzzy around the edges; his memory having no trouble at all reminding him of the hard bite of their edges on his wrists and ankles. He thinks, a little desperately, that he is possibly out of his depth. _Mary, Mother of God, please let me survive this_. He can feel sweat starting to edge down the sides of his face and the small of his back. Bucky steps back behind the chair Peggy is sitting in, standing over her shoulder.  


Peggy adjusts her position slightly, and he feels like every single atom in his body is straining toward her; toward both of them. At the corner of his field of vision he can see Bucky appraising him, eyes half-lidded and sleepy, and he has to fight back a whimper. His pulse is really making a racket now, he can hear it pounding in his ears, has no doubt that the veins in his neck are jumping in time with it; he doesn’t even want to _think_ about his dick right now; how hard he is already sending a wave of embarrassment and want sweeping through him. He closes his eyes in a vain effort to center himself, and looks up at Peggy through his eyelashes so she knows he’s listening. He doesn’t want to disappoint her, or make her have to repeat herself. He knows how to be good.  


“Now Captain, I’m going to lay out a couple of ground rules before we begin, while you’re still clear-headed enough to understand what it is I’m telling you. Sergeant Barnes and I have discussed your personal limitations, and our own, but I would like to inform you as well, so that none of this takes you by surprise; good or ill. If you understand me, nod, there’s no need for you to speak just yet,” He nods, swaying slightly, and she continues, soft and firm; “I will not be, tonight or any other night, performing any form of anal or oral sex on you. And you will not, tonight or any other night, be expected or needed to perform penetrative sex on me. I would be vastly out of my depth in those areas, and they are not part of this arrangement, as such; are we clear?” He nods, hard, his head feeling like it’s on a string; beyond his control. It’s not what some fellas might want from a dame – a woman, like her, but it’s _everything._ It’s so much more than he could ask for. He desperately wants to be as good for her as he can, to make Bucky proud and pleased.  


“Very good. Wonderful. You’re doing perfectly,” And that’s enough to temper his desperation, for now, and his shoulders relax incrementally. She turns around, still seated, and touches Bucky lightly on his bare forearm. “Now, Sergeant Barnes is going to assist me. I will explain everything to you in as much detail as I believe it warrants, and when I am finished I will prompt you to ask any questions you might have. Nod.” His eyes are zeroed in on her hand on Bucky’s arm, her pale fingers and bright red nails against his tanned skin. He feels overwhelmed, for a brief moment, at how beautiful they are, and how _goddamn lucky_ he is, before his head is floating up and down in the affirmative.  


Bucky is undoing the buckles on the briefcase, catching his eye and winking. Steve feels a goofy, blissful smile spreading across his face and rocks briefly back on his heels. He can see Agent Carter watching him intently, amused and patient. Bucky has placed several items next to the ones already on the table; another belt; slightly thinner and smaller around than his and Bucky’s, and a woman’s’ silver hand-mirror and hairbrush set. Steve is rarely bewildered, but this is one of those times when he finds himself at a loss. He feels his eyebrows knitting together in confusion, and looks back up at Peggy, Bucky again standing behind her with his arms crossed; observant as always. He can see, even from a couple yards away, that Bucky is hard. He swallows thickly, and makes sure not to speak.  


_Oh,_ Steve thinks, feeling a tugging in his chest, the beginning of what might be tears lodging in his throat. He looks down and nods. He feels adrift again, suddenly.  


“Very good, thank you for answering me honestly. Now, Sergeant Barnes and I are going to our level best to disabuse you of that notion. We’re here to take care of you. Do you have any questions?” He’s shaking his head, quickly. He trusts her. He trusts _them._ “Perfect. I believe the Sergeant would like to help you remove your uniform, and also, I would imagine, reward you for being so patient, and then I believe we’ll be ready to begin.”  


“Oh, would I ever,” Bucky is smirking at him, teeth worrying his bottom lip as he advances on him. He nearly melts into Bucky’s arms, and seals himself tightly against him, sucking on his bottom lip. Bucky’s arms go around him, one up under the shield on his back, and the other tucking into the waist of the uniform. Bucky pulls back, briefly, pressing his pelvis insistently against Steve’s. Until that moment Steve had forgotten how hard he was, but now it’s impossible to ignore. He moans, low in his throat, his head falling forward to rest heavily on Bucky shoulder, and for all that Bucky wasn’t speaking for before, he is on a _goddamn roll_ now, murmuring low in his ear, voice gone rumbly; “Damn sweetheart, look how gone you are already, _Jesus_ , haven’t even touched you. What are we going to do with you, huh? You’re gonna be just a peach for me and Agent Carter, I know you are. I can feel how hard you are, how much you like this. You happy, darlin’? Just wanna make you happy. You’re bein’ so good.”  


Bucky is petting all over his body, his voice already an intimate caress in its own right, making him shiver. Steve feels his limbs being moved around so Bucky can undress him; rubbing up his back and to take off the shield and toss it on the bed, unbuckling and unzipping the various closures on his uniform, leaning down to take his boots off. He can feel Peggy watching them, knows he’s flushed blotchy and red down his neck and chest almost all the way to his dick, which is curved up and nudging under his belly button now that he’s naked, smearing wetly. Bucky takes his time every now and then to suck a mark onto his shoulders or his neck, making his eyes flutter, or to bite him, lightly, just to test, which makes him whine just a little. He already feels that syrupy sense of time slowing down, his body becoming malleable, his mind clearing out. He’s _floating_.  


“You are quite beautiful together,” Peggy’s voice is warm, affectionate. Bucky is pressed up behind him, lightly running his hands down Steve’s sides, firm enough to not be ticklish; just enough to let Steve know he’s got him. His chin is resting on Steve’s shoulder, nudging his head to look forward at Peggy. He’s still in his pants and boots, but shirtless now; Steve can feel the slightly cooler metal of his dogtags warming up where their bodies are pressed together. Steve muzzily tries to remember him taking off his shirt and can’t quite grasp the details; instead he sighs softly and leans back against him, the coarse fabric of Bucky’s pants against his bare legs makes him want to rub his whole body back against him. This is good. He is good. He’s blinking slowly at Peggy, smiling a little. She continues in the same tone of voice as before, her eyes never leaving his; “I do regret that I will never get to see you together, as you were before. But you are an exceptional man in any vessel, and I believe Sergeant Barnes would agree with me,” Bucky is nosing behind Steve’s right ear, gently, his hands holding onto his bare hips; he feels as though he’s being shown off and presented to Peggy, blushing with pleasure and pride at being complimented by her.  


Bucky gives him a quick kiss behind his ear and moves away slightly, reaching toward the table. His bliss is run through with anticipation, wanting desperately to see what Bucky is grabbing, but understanding that if he looks away from Peggy she’ll be displeased, and the possibility of making her displeased is too much for him to bear. He’s sure she can read his desperation on his face, in the fine tremors racing down his thighs, and she seems to take pity on him. She stands up from the chair, never taking her eyes off him.  


“Sergeant Barnes and myself have taken the liberty of planning out the evening, so that you may relax. I will be informing you of the plan as it unfolds, but if at any point you feel uncomfortable, please do say something. We’ve decided that you will not need the use of your hands at this time. Right now, we’re going to belt your arms together. Three belts. They will be quite tight, but I have full confidence that you can handle it. Wrists out in front, please,” Oh _Christ_. Bucky has never completely incapacitated his arms like this; this is _new_. He’s nodding and putting his wrists out in front of him; his breath coming in short puffs. Peggy fastens the smallest of the three belts, the one that was in the briefcase, around his wrists, rubbing the tops of his hands briefly, then steps back. It’s tight, like she said it would be, but secure, and good; he can feel some of the dizzy, nervous anticipation leaving his head and his body, feels himself settling, dimly aware that his body is throbbing; his cheeks no doubt scarlet and his dick jumping against his stomach slightly with his pulse. She watches Bucky place the other two; first one around his forearms, then the final one around his upper arms. Bucky is standing behind him again, Peggy in front. She’s assessing their handiwork, and nods once. This seems to be a cue for Bucky to join her, and he trails a hand down Steve’s side as he brushes past him, then helps Peggy remove her uniform jacket, placing it across the back of the chair.  


“You’re doing wonderfully, Captain. Sergeant Barnes has selflessly agreed to do nothing but watch at the moment, and has entrusted you solely to me; he believes that you will behave admirably and do exactly as I say without argument, is that true? You may nod,” She’s picked up the brush from the table and is walking calmly around behind him, Bucky taking her place in the chair. The tender, hungry look on his face makes him feel like he has no skin; completely bare and open and vulnerable. Steve squeezes his eyes shut against it and nods an affirmative. Before he’s even finished nodding, Peggy is dragging what he can only guess are the boar bristles of the hairbrush up his spine. He feels _electric_ , torn between squirming away and pressing back. It startles him up onto his toes; calves flexing, and there is no possible way for him to stop the moan that claws its way out of his throat. Once his feet are flat, Peggy runs the bristles down his back and over his ass checks.  


“You _are_ sensitive, aren’t you?” She sounds pleased, and amused. He waits for a moment to see if she’ll continue speaking and then croaks out,  


“Yes ma’am,” She is circling him slowly, running the bristles over him at random; it feels like every hair on his body is standing on edge, and the tiny tremors that were running through his thighs are becoming more frequent. Bucky is sprawled back in the chair, legs spread wide, palming his dick through his pants. His eyes are tracking between Steve’s face and the brush and his whole bottom lip is stuck between his teeth, no doubt to stop himself from running his mouth. _Jesus Christ Oh God_. Steve realizes, mortified, that he is very _very_ close to coming all over himself. He knows that if Bucky says one _goddamn word_ to him, or Peggy happens to touch his dick; sloppy with precome, it’s going to happen. _God_ , suddenly it feels like he’s been hard _forever_. He’s breathing sharply through his nose, looking down at Peggy where’s she’s stopped in front of him. She’s flipped the brush around so that the carved silver back is resting against the swell of right side of his upper chest, just above his nipple. Having his arms strapped in front of him presses his chest muscles up and together, his face burning when it realizes it looks like he has _tits._  


“You’d very much like to come, wouldn’t you?” He pauses, torn between begging _yes please anything touch me just touch me_ and not wanting to speak out of turn. He’s snapped out of his struggle by her bringing the back of the brush down, swiftly and sharply, against his chest, adding some extra color to the blush already there. He lets out a cry and sways forward, the muscles in his arms straining against the belts. “I expect an answer when I ask you a question, Captain. Would you like to come?”  


“Yes ma’am, please, very much,” His voice is shaking; he feels like he’s coming apart. Peggy has set the brush down and has her right hand on his cheek, forcing him to look in her eyes. He only partially resists the urge to rub his face against her palm like a cat, and she scratches the side of his head lightly with her fingernails, making his breath catch.  


“Yes, I see that. As beautiful as you are like this; desperate and wanting so hard to be good, I think you’ll be even more lovely on your knees with your head between my legs. You will of course stay bound as you are. Nod.” Steve is _finished_. He has no goddamn idea how he didn’t pop off like a fucking kid at the mere suggestion of her letting him touch her; it is truly a fucking miracle. He’s chewing on his bottom lip and nodding so vigorously he’s amazed his head doesn’t nod right off his damn neck. He starts to sink down to his knees, eager and a little light-headed, but she stops him with two fingers under his chin’ brings him back up to his feet.  


“I believe that Sergeant Barnes may be feeling slightly left out; I’m afraid we’ve been terribly rude to him. Look at him, how patient he’s been, watching us, letting me take care of you. I can only imagine how badly he’d like to have some of you for himself, and reward you for being such a good boy,” And it’s not just how Bucky looks right now; halfway to coming himself, right hand gripped tight around his erection, left hand rubbing against his jaw, eyes dark and intense, but also Peggy calling him a good boy that makes tears well up in his eyes, hot and sudden. He groans from somewhere deep in chest and allows Peggy to lead him by his bound arms over to the edge of the table, where she perches on the edge and begins unbuttoning her blouse. Steve is standing in front of her, just out of her arms reach, tracking her fingers, his hands flexing and shifting from foot to foot. Bucky hasn’t moved from the chair, but Steve can hear him breathing heavy through his nose.  


“Sergeant Barnes? I believe your sweetheart would very much like you to fuck him,” And that is all the invitation Bucky needs to be on his feet and snatching the Vaseline off the table. “On his knees, please, Sergeant,” And Bucky is standing in between him and Peggy, tugging him down by his wrists, leaning down at the waist to kiss him hot and wet, lick the roof of his mouth. Steve is whimpering, keening into Bucky’s mouth. When he breaks away to pant wildly Bucky steps away to kneel behind him, his left hand on Steve’s hip, his right hand trailing between Steve’s legs. Steve’s thighs are shaking slightly with having to keep himself kneeling just so, unable to support his weight with his hands or arm with them strapped in front of him. Peggy is standing now, bare from the waist up, and he’s looking up at her face while she unzips her skirt, stepping out of it gingerly. She also slides her underwear down her legs, but leaves on her plain garter and nylons, as well as her shoes. She smells wonderful, like lavender and warm salt. He can’t help his eyes falling to take her in like this; beautiful, always, no matter how much or little she wears, and so strong. Her body is plush, perfect; breasts full and hips soft, the small thatch of hair between her legs in perfect proportion to the rest of her. She is not shy about her nakedness, and allows him to look at her until finally his eyes rest again on hers.  


Between devouring her with his eyes; seeing how gorgeous she is, realizing that she’s giving him this, and Bucky behind him, whispering _so perfect, sweetheart, just perfect, that’s right, open up for me, yeah_ snugged up right against him, two fingers working him open and erection pressed firmly against his ass, he has started hitching his hips back and forth, ever so slightly. He isn’t sure when it began and he’s not entirely sure if he’ll be able to stop it if she asks him to. She hopes to God she doesn’t. He feels very desperately, suddenly, that if she were displeased with him it would break his heart. She brings her wonderful hands to his head; hands that he’s seen wrapped around a gun as and confident as breathing, and scratches her fingernails through his hair, bringing his head to rest against her thigh. This close to her, he can smell her even more sharply, the lavender and salt smell getting warmer, slightly earthier. His mouth is watering, and he’s begun in earnest fucking himself back on Bucky’s fingers.  


“Darling, you’ve been such a good boy, you’ve done wonderfully, you’ve been absolutely perfect for me and Sergeant Barnes, but I’m afraid I can’t allow you to come when I haven’t, so you’ll need to work just a little bit harder for me, can you do that?” He’s rubbing his face against her right hip and upper thigh, taking in deep gulps of hair; he feels drunk; his head is filled with bubbles. He’s nodding and his dick is weeping; he has tears in his eyes and he can feel Bucky slipping his fingers out, replacing them slowly with his cock. Steve goes stock still before he just breaks completely.  


“Yes ma’am, I – ” and he bites off his words with a high, tight moan as Bucky seats himself fully inside Steve. Bucky is panting in his ear, his knees between Steve’s, keeping him spread open. Bucky has his hands on Steve’s arms, pulling them even harder toward his own chest, breathing out profanity and praise behind him, tipping him hard towards Peggy’s body. “I want to, I want to, _Oh Jesus fuck, please ma’am,_ ” He is aware that he is babbling, and he might be crying, but he feels so fucking good. The drag and pressure of Bucky behind him, around him, holding up, and being pushed forward into Peggy; how she smells, how soft her skin is proving to be too much for him.  


“Shh, yes I know, we’re so proud of you. You’ll have what you want,” And Peggy is leaning back against the edge of the table, spreading her legs wide enough to box in his shoulders, opening up to him. Bucky fucking him nearly drives him face first into her, but her hands still in his hair pulling slightly slows his descent and she settles her knees up level with his ears. Bucky is still behind him, his hands flexing on Steve’s arms, giving him a chance to take direction. He loves Bucky so much, loves them _both_ so much he’s overcome by it, can feel it welling up in his chest, overwhelming any of the uncertainty he would otherwise feel being put in this position; so very different but similar in all the ways that really matter.  


“Slow at first, I think, darling. I trust you to learn quickly, I have every reason to believe you’ll do just exactly as I need you to,” Peggy sounds a little breathless, and Bucky strangles out a quiet _fuck, Jesus H_ behind him, starting to roll his hips up against Steve’s ass and Steve lowers his mouth to her. Her skin is hot and damp, the salty smell of her overwhelming the lavender of what must be her soap or skin cream. Her fingers are still woven firmly into his hair, but she isn’t yanking, just holding him in place. He tries to remember the first time he had Bucky in his mouth, how gentle he had been, how sensitive Bucky had been, how encouraging. Bucky evidently has the same thing on his mind, because he is whispering in Steve’s ear, fucking him smooth and sure.  


“You remember the first time you had me like that? God, you were so fucking eager, you wanted it so bad you practically begged me, you remember? Just about choked yourself on my dick, you had me so outta my head I thought I was gonna scream the place down, get us arrested; that beautiful fuckin’ mouth of yours, always been so perfect. Dames’re a little more sensitive; just start her off nice and soft, s’not a competition. Christ, you feel so fuckin’ good sweetheart, always do, I can feel your legs shakin’ like you’re gonna fall apart; I got you, I got you, don’t worry,” And Steve is groaning against Peggy’s cunt; Bucky’s mouth driving him closer to coming just as sure as a hand on his dick, and he feels his ears go hot even thinking the word, but Peggy is tightening her fingers in his hair, encouraging and demanding.  


He licks at her, softly, with his tongue flat. The position Bucky has him in is pressing his nose into the mound of her pubic hair. She tastes _amazing,_ and it makes him groan again, trying to push his mouth and nose into her just a little more, a little harder. She tastes like salt and sweet, she smells like the clearest skies and bluest ocean he can imagine; like rain and the beach. Completely different than Bucky, and just as perfect. He can hear Bucky’s hips starting to slap against his, his hands anchoring him. Steve, for all that he tries to control himself and go slowly, be soft, eats at her like he’s starving and she’s the first food he’s seen in years. _God oh God oh My fucking God and Jesus Christ don’t come yet don’t come yet_ he chants to himself, in the brief moments of clarity between Bucky pressing into him just right and filling his mouth with Peggy; his head is buzzing, all the noises they’re making turning into white noise. He is floating, bobbing up and down in the ocean; tiny but expansive.  


Peggy is moving his head exactly where she needs it; he trusts her to use him in the way he should be used to please, and tries his best to keep his mouth soft and generous. His lips feel clumsy, a little numb, so he sucks at her, just a little, and he hears a surprised _ah!_ of pleasure from above him. He almost comes right there, Bucky panting raggedly, sucking and biting on the side of his neck, calling him _baby boy, honey, fucking beautiful, doin’ so good_ , but he shuts his eyes tight and focuses on Peggy. He can wait, his body can wait, _God, please let his body just fucking wait_.  


Peggy is grasping around on the table with her right hand, her left still directing Steve, but Steve can’t bring to do more than whine at the loss of contact and continue licking her, kittenish. She brings her right hand back down toward Steve’s head, and clutched tight in it is the hand-mirror. He glances at it and can hardly process what he sees; his same blue eyes, same as they’ve been since he can remember, staring back at him. They’re blown, pupils huge and lids heavy, but they’re his. He can see Peggy’s wrist and part of her palm, his hair sticking up from between her fingers. And he can see Bucky behind him, his face pressed into the side of Steve’s neck, eyes just as hot as his, brow furrowed in concentration. Steve whines imploringly against Peggy.  


“Darling, I need you to focus for me, I know it’s difficult, you’ve been working so hard and I can tell you’re close, but I need you to watch yourself,” She really is breathless now, her head craning up to speak to him, eyes steady and honest on his. Her voice somehow sounds thicker. “I don’t want there to be any doubt at all that you deserve this. That you’ve done perfectly, that James and I are proud of you and that we adore you in any and all of the shapes that you may take, large and small. You’re such a good man,” And he feels his eyes welling up for real now, a couple tears spilling down his cheeks, too far gone to care or be embarrassed; how could he be ashamed of wanting this when he feels so utterly _good_?  


Bucky’s eyes meet his in the mirror, and he honest to God looks at Steve like he hung the moon and all the stars, that there is no one else on the planet he’d rather be looking at; both of his arms are completely wrapped around Steve’s upper body now, hugging him tight into him. Peggy is pulling Steve’s face tighter against her; he can feel her getting wetter and hotter against his mouth, moving her hips just a little; thighs tightening up against his shoulders. He feels like his whole body is melting into both of them. Bucky’s hips are jerking erratically, driving into his body perfectly, just where he should be. Steve can hear his own neglected dick slapping wetly against his abdomen. Bucky’s eyebrows are knitting together again, and he looks suddenly mournful, his mouth going slack and wet.  


“Stevie, sweetheart, m’not gonna last long, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, just as much now as before, you’re my fella, my boy, you always feel like comin’ home, always let me in. God I just wanna live inside you forever, give you everything you need,” And he can hear Peggy letting out those little ah-ah-ahs, and he _knows_ what that means, suffused with pleasure and satisfaction; giddy. Bucky stills behind him, squeezing him so tight he almost can’t breathe for a minute, and he feels the tiny little presses of his hips that mean he’s coming, Bucky prayerful, for once, sighing _Oh Mother Mary and all the saints, Oh my God_ into his shoulder, Steve watching him go slack and come down in the mirror still clutched tightly in Peggy’s hand, turning him on himself.  


Peggy is close; he can feel his chin dripping from her, his nose buried against the sensitive bundle at the top of her, but still she speaks; breathless, panting, but brooking no argument.  


“You’ve done perfectly, you’re so good, I need you to come now, though, darling, Steve- ” Her orgasm cuts her off, the clean saltiness of her flooding his mouth, and she goes completely still, drawn tight; the heels of her shoes digging into his ribs, her knees crushing against his shoulders, her fingers pulling in his hair. Steve feels like every point of contact between them on his body is coalescing into something unbearably hot and bright; a star, a sun.  


His mind goes completely and utterly quiet and white, and his own gasping breaths bring him back to reality. Peggy is petting his hair with both hands, having set the mirror down, and Bucky is rocking him gently from side to side, pressing kisses into his shoulders, stroking his sides and the tops of his thighs. His hands and feet are asleep. He’s covered in sweat, among other things. He feels _amazing_ , he never wants to move. He’s not sure if he _could_.  


“Welcome back, soldier,” Peggy is propping herself up on her elbows on the table, slowly sliding toward the edge to stand. “Let’s get you into bed, then. I believe that’s quite enough excitement for one night.” Bucky is slowly pulling out of Steve, gentle, whispering _love you, Steve_ , then scooting around to help Peggy unbuckle the belts from his arms. They’re banded with deep red marks. He feels a little disappointed that they won’t be there come morning because of how quickly he heals. They help him stand up, and between the two of them are able to support him far enough to let him topple onto the bed. He lies there, feeling like he ran 50 miles and then got hit by a tank, quiet and pleased. Happy. He clears his throat.  


“Ma’am?” And Peggy looks over at him from where she’s putting herself to rights; smoothing her hair back, putting her underthings on again, and she smiles at him, and raises an eyebrow.  


“Oh, I think Peggy is fine now, Captain, don’t you? I rather think you earned it,” He smiles at her, still feeling a little drunk, the glow of his flattered blush creep up his face.  


“Peggy. Thank you. I just- thank you. I’m honored that you were, ah, willing to do this for me. For us,” Bucky is settling down behind him, drawing him back to cradle in his body, still kissing his shoulders and kneading his arms gently.  


“Not at all, never think of yourself as an inconvenience, to me or any other person,” She finishes doing up the buttons on her blouse, and collects the items she brought with her back into her briefcase. Steve watches her become Agent Carter again, drifting off, as she puts her uniform jacket back on, and approaches the bed. She runs the hand not holding the briefcase through his hair, and looks between he and Bucky.  


“You both are very lucky to have each other, and I consider myself to be just as lucky as the two of you to have been able to be with you in this way. You are _both_ quite exceptional,” Peggy raises a very pointed eyebrow at Bucky over Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tries to remind himself to ask about that later. Peggy gives them one last small smile before she closes the door softly behind her. Steve can feel Bucky grinning into the back of his neck.  


“What’s so funny, Barnes?” His voice is still pretty wrecked; hoarse like after he’s been yelling order. That thought does tickle him a bit, considering. He tilts his head back just a little, molding himself a little closer to Bucky’s front. He feels completely content.  


“Stevie, we are some lucky fuckin’ bastards, that’s all. Who gets to have this, huh? In the middle of a damn war zone. It’s somethin’ else. And that woman is a force to be reckoned with, you mark my words. She’s the best of us, I think. You happy, sweetheart?” And Bucky sounds so earnest, and Steve is so blissed out, ridden hard and put away wet, quite literally, that he can’t bring himself to sass him about the pet name. He just lets his eyes drift shut and twists his fingers in Bucky’s.  


“Yeah, Buck. M’real happy. Jesus. The happiest. Thank you.” He can feel himself falling asleep, the anger from earlier a distant memory, dismantled by the hands and bodies of the people who see him, who have always seen him. Even when he was invisible.

  
END


End file.
